It's like waking up from a long nap. Not a particularly restful nap, and sure as shit filled with a lot of nightmares, but--with a long, deep inhale, and a good long stretch of his arms, Angelus decides, yeah, pretty much like waking up from a nap.

The table he'd been laying on is gone. That's disappointing; it was metal, not like he'd be able to break it down and stake himself with it. He could probably still have broken it and turned pieces into projectile weapons; while that could've been fun, he'd much prefer to use it as a prop. You get graded almost 50% on style, and he has been seriously lacking in style for the last 5 years, and the last hundred before that.

For now, he sits and lounges against the wall opposite the bars of his cage ('cage', that's rich; like he hasn't been in a far worse, more confined and torturous cage for almost half his existence, forced not only to witness, but feel everything that his stupid, tortured soul does), listening to the troop upstairs discuss him.

It's all so trite and scripted. Boring. One good thing about Angel, though; in an effort to get his friends to ignore the more demonic aspects of his being a vampire that he can't hide - he's hidden other facets as well. Like, for instance, just how good his hearing is. He can hear them upstairs in the office, talking, just as easily as if they were right in front of him, just past the red line that marks how far his reach is.

"Angel is gone." Nope, right here, Wes old pal! Angelus chuckles to himself.

And Cordelia, going on about how she's seen how bad Angelus is. Okay sure, she says she's seen all the things he did before he got his soul, but really - he's insulted that she thinks he can't come up with a new, worse repertoire now. The torments he'd visited on past victims were generic; he rarely got to know them well enough to truly psychologically torture them the way he enjoys best. Only two, really; Drusilla, and...

"We're Angel's only link to humanity. Angelus will hate us for that. He'll wanna make us suffer." Angelus tilts his head at Cordy's words, pursing his lips in a 'meh?' face. While she's not wrong about wanting to make them suffer - because goddamn, does he ever - he's got a whole list of things he wants to do once he's free, and the idiots upstairs aren't really his first priority. Maybe second, as a group, with little sub-priorities for each of them individually. But his first priority has sub-priorities of its own, so really, they're about 4th --5th?-- down the list.

And Wesley, discussing his methodology. Going on and on about how much better Angelus is than Wes - again, true, but Jesus Christ, he hadn't realized just how blatant Wes's inferiority complex still was. He is flattered at how megalomaniacal, devious and cunning Wes seems to think he is. He can definitely use that.

Angelus starts singing softly to himself, something he hasn't really been able to do in quite a while. It's nice to have proof that his body, his vocal chords are his own again.

When Wes comes down, Angelus does the whole back-and-forth convo thing; he's much better at subtly buttering Wes up than the former Watcher is. And considering how the two of them originally met, and what came before, he's not surprised when Wes brings up Sunnydale; he plays it cool though, acting like it's only the last in a long line of fond memories. He can't help mentioning "That Slayer though... she's a pistol." Gotta get the fuck out of here, so he can go pay her another visit...

"Is it a game?" Oh, Wes. Wesley, Wesley, Wesley Wyndham-Pryce. He wants to taunt him that it's always a game! So much for knowing so-fucking-much about him. Angel works with a bunch of fucking morons, really. And that's coming from the guy who spent a hundred years with the shallow bitch Darla, the fucking looney Drusilla, and the idiot hanger-on Spike.

Talking about the Beast, why Angel doesn't remember him-- YAWN, boring! Fine, whatever. It's not like he's able to go anywhere else for more stimulating conversation. It's not hard to steer the conversation though, turning it back on Wes, making digs on the whole sordid inter-office relationships. God, you'd think he lived in a fucking sitcom, all the dating and partner switching and personal drama in this place. It is nice fodder to use against them, though. He doles it out slowly. Divide and conquer; Wes really shouldn't have come down on his own, or told the others to listen upstairs. That's definitely gonna come back to bite him on the ass - Angelus intends to help it along as much as possible.

Wes really was right - Angelus is much better at this back-and-forth, getting-under-the-skin manipulation than Wes is. He does get the chance to bring up watching his welp fucking the prom queen, before abruptly ending the conversation.

For a first volley, he's positive it was a rousing victory in his favor. Gotta love white-hats, so self-righteous, such brittle emotions. Poke 'em in just the right place, they deflate like water balloons.

Gunn and Fred are fun, too; he pulls out the 'evil' a little more, knowing how unnerved it'll make Fred. Mmmh, Fred, with the hero worship of Angel still sitting under the surface, even almost 2 years later. He attacks Fred, mostly just to see what they'll do. He knows what the plan is, but you know what they say: the battle plan only lasts until the first skirmish. Gunn doesn't disappoint, dropping the crossbow and trying to help Fred; Wes is the surprise, keeping to the plan and tranquing him - twice! He's not sure if he enjoys the brainy ones more, or less than the more easily-manipulated.

Wes is gonna be a problem, once he gets out. Fred too - she's mousy, but more than just smart, she's resourceful. Bad combination for his continued existence on the outside. Too bad; he'd love to get to play with her more. He's always wondered if he could drive another girl insane like he did Dru. Might even be fun to turn her - it's always the quiet ones that are the most vicious. Could have the added benefit of derailing Wesley and Gunn - but might also make them more determined to kill him.

It's a conundrum, that he considers while laying on the floor, listening to them when he wakes up. He could get up, but actually, this is pretty comfortable, laying on his back, hands linked behind his head, legs crossed at the ankle, listening to Angel's team self-destruct. Angelus can't help but chuckle. "That was fast."

There's fighting, and he wishes he could see what was happening - although he's got a pretty clear picture just from the sounds. Tensions, reaching their boiling point, overflowing - not sure who took the first swing, but his money's on Gunn, who's always had less control over his temper. He's sure the new and improved Wes is giving as good as he gets though. Yelling, Cordy saying they're doing just what Angelus wants. Yes, yes they are. So nice when a plan comes together.

Meanwhile, nobody's paying attention to the caged vampire, or the kid sneaking down to see him. Angelus keeps himself loose, but mentally alert, in case Connor decides now's the perfect time to get rid of him.

If Wes was easy to manipulate, Connor is just embarrassing. All that fucking teenage angst and bravado and anger just simmering, hardly under the surface at all - he wears his pissy attitude like a badge of honor. If there's any of them Angelus hates, it's Connor, and not because Angel loves the fucking brat. Angel loves Buffy too, and he sure as shit doesn't hate her. No, he hates Connor because he's the worst kind of spoiled, entitled little bitch who needs to be slapped repeatedly, and nobody fucking will!

God, just looking at him makes Angelus's skin crawl. Makes him... tingle? There's a buzzing along his spine, and even as he talks to Connor, he can't help but think... hope... it's not just his imagination. It's getting stronger though. Conning Connor into getting closer, he stays away from the bars, luring the boy in; even caged, he's sure if he can get the kid in close quarters, he can take him, no matter what stake the kid has up his sleeve. He wonders if a human-vampire hybrid would taste different? Have a nice zing in his blood? It'd be nice to have the memory of killing him if Angel ever gets shoved back into his body.

But the thought of Connor's blood is quickly losing it's appeal; Cordelia coming down the stairs is on the periphery of his attention, because he knows, he's certain now-- she's here...

"Wouldn't mind a car. I hear the new Mustang's nice." Cordy looks so haughty, like he's falling exactly where she wants him. "Something better."

"What's a better ride than a Mustang?" He's not an idiot, and frankly he's insulted that all he has to do is phrase things a certain way, and they think they're manipulating him. Fucking amateurs. Cordelia's offer of herself isn't worth his spit - well, it might be, if he for one second believed that she wouldn't figure out a way to wiggle out of it. Unlike Angel though, Angelus isn't interested in used goods, which Cordelia absolutely is. Like he'd take sloppy seconds after his own kid.

She does give him a bargaining chip, though. They're so gung-ho to learn about the stupid Beast, that means he's got leverage.

Giving Cordelia a smirk, he leans forward, running his eyes blatantly over her figure, before whispering lowly, "...Not interested, princess. Try again."

His eyes shift up to the top of the stairs, the near-silent footfalls alerting him they're about to have company.

Let the real games begin.